


A change of pace (and opinion)

by Chyrstis



Series: We could make a home out of this [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Eden's Gate Cult, Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25522669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chyrstis/pseuds/Chyrstis
Summary: It’s a hot day down by the river, and while Sharky’s not too keen on a break when John suggests it, a bet’s a whole other story altogether.[Set between I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I'd like you)’s Ch. 3 and 4]
Relationships: Sharky Boshaw/John Seed
Series: We could make a home out of this [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798033
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	A change of pace (and opinion)

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat of a companion fic, but not quite, this has been in the workings for a while now (as far back as either Feb/March?) and I finally managed to figure out what direction I wanted to take it, and also gave me the chance to play around with some fun headcanons I've seen floating around too! 
> 
> With a lot of time left unaccounted for during the main fic, that gave me a great chance to start tackling some missing scenes between chapters, and this is hopefully the first of at least two fics to do that. There's also more than a few ideas taking place after, but I wanted to see if I could at least finish this up first before moving forward timeline-wise.
> 
> I'd definitely suggest checking out [I won't ask for much](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039543/chapters/52599754) before diving in here (up to at least Ch. 3), but for any readers new and old? Hi, and I hope you enjoy the ride! :D

It was a scorcher. One that Sharky wasn’t entirely prepared to face as he trudged over to the boathouse, lugging as much wood as he could carry under his arm.

His tank clung to his back in record time as the sun kept on shooting rays down at him, making him pull at it every now and then to get some kind of a breeze going, but the relief never lasted.

He’d hardly been spared a single cloud, which meant he was going to burn before the day was out, and removed his hat off to wipe at his forehead. The sweat would be back in minutes, falling back into his eyes as he threw another ten, twenty, thirty, who knew how many pounds of shit around, all while under the watchful eye of the asshole currently doing anything but the actual watching part.

Leaning back on the bench as he sunned himself, John reclined as he stretched into it, like the world’s pissiest cat, but worse.

He’d been there for roughly ten to fifteen minutes now, taking the position shortly after heading off in the direction of the picnic table, and Sharky didn’t think anything of it at first. Ignored it mostly, because not having John breathing down his neck was a holiday in and of itself and he was set on celebrating it, but the silence stretched on. Started turning weird as he kept on going, taking looks over his shoulder every now and then to see if John had budged even.

And no, he hadn’t moved at all.

Not even an inch as John let out a loud sigh, and reached for the bottle of water sitting next to him.

Sharky swiped at his forehead, irritated at just how blatant he was being about all of it, and swore if his next move involved pouring it over himself he was out.

John had already ruined most of his week by dragging him out here twice, but ruining Flashdance? That was just straight-up fucking wrong, and like hell was he going to be stuck thinking of him shaking that water off whenever he’d want to fire the movie up. He didn’t need that thought popping up or existing at all, and it wouldn’t be the only time it’d come to mind either.

No, it’d be stuck there in his head permanently, and seeing John, dripping wet and wearing a smug-ass grin at any point wasn’t his idea of a good time.

The water bottle went up as John took a drink, and Sharky watched his eyebrow climb up with it.

But the water went where it was intended. Right down his throat, not over his head, and John lowered the bottle back down as he leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. Finally focusing his attention on something other than the sun hanging above their heads.

A shame it took Sharky five minutes too long to realize just what he was looking at.

Him. Standing there, wooden planks in hand all while he’d let Maniac run through his head on repeat, and John held that stare as the corners of his lips curved up.

_Aw, fuck._

Fumbling everything, the wood clattered as it fell to his feet, and Sharky quickly picked it all up. The rest went right into the wheelbarrow next to him, and he hightailed it towards the boathouse.

His thoughts shifted to sorting through specs after that. Lengths and widths as he tried to stack and sort what he’d brought with him in the hopes he could hold out there as long as he could before John came sniffing around to check.

Time ticked by as the piles grew in height, but nothing happened. So, he went and re-stacked them again, making sure he’d had it right the first time.

Still, nothing.

Leaning against the wall by Billy, Sharky eyed the doorway, staring at that open space as he waited for John to step through it, but he didn’t. He’d managed to summon him like this before on accident, but this time it’d failed. Almost as if he wanted to be hands-off this time around, and that didn’t make a lick of sense at all.

His knuckles were rapping against the wood by Billy now, tap, tap, tapping along with his foot’s anxious rhythm, and the sound only grew louder as Sharky kept up with it. He even set off Billy once so he wouldn’t be able to hear his own tapping anymore, and shoved away from the wall when the tune only made it all worse.

Poking his head out of the door, he looked over towards the bench, and noticed John hadn’t moved much at all. Sitting there with his head leaned back, he looked like he was taking a nap on top of everything else. A motherfucking _catnap_ all while Sharky was busting his ass, waiting to see how he’d fuck up without him, and like hell was he going to play right into that.

Whistling loud enough to make anyone want to clap their hands over their ears, Sharky gave it his all, and John’s head shot up instantly.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

Looking right at him as he raised his sunglasses, John’s surprise settled into an expectant smile. “Yes?”

“Seriously?” Sharky took a few steps towards him, and crossed his arms. “That’s it? Like, you’re just going to stay there the whole time?”

“I wasn’t planning to,” John started, crossing one leg over the other, “but I was thinking about just how lovely this day was, and maybe it would be nice to enjoy it for once. Just to sit back for a moment or two to take in the breeze, and how the sun feels. You appear to know what you’re doing, so I was content to leave you be. Unless you have concerns?”

“Wait, hold up.” He made a move to clear his ear out, because John didn’t just throw out what he thought he did. “You wanna repeat that, ‘cause it kinda sounded like you said I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, I thought you did.” John tilted his head to the side, aiming his stare at him long enough for Sharky to want to fidget in place. “You do, don’t you?"

Standing up straighter, he almost sneered at him. “Psh, yeah!” 

“Good,” John said, relaxing. “I’ve been counting on that. But truthfully, I was thinking that I may have been harsh in my methods, and pushed you harder than necessary. You almost broke your neck the last time you were out here due to overworking yourself, so I was thinking you could join me.”

“…Join you?”

Patting the seat next to him, John nodded. “Right here. To relax and have some water even.”

Sharky’s eyes darted from the spot to John, and back again. “You’re fucking with me.”

John rolled his eyes. “Please. If I actually wanted to fuck with you, I could do so much better than this.” Leaning back, he inclined his head towards the seat. “Rest. Take five, take ten even, and understand that there’s no catch to this. Just…a friendly suggestion.”

Friendly and John didn’t even belong in the same sentence, but he’d caught a hint of that once already. Saw what that looked like coming from him, and couldn’t even plead ignorance after spending hours before talking to the guy and borderline liking it.

And while John wasn’t offering him beer this time, Sharky could imagine just how good it’d feel to throw back that water and chug it.

John patted the seat again.

 _Fuck it_ , Sharky thought, and made his way over the bench. Sitting down, he cracked open the water John pushed his way, and downed it in record time.

And it was _good._ Good enough to get a loud, drawn out sigh from him the minute it was gone.

John smiled out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing. Just lowered his sunglasses and tilted his head skyward again as he soaked in the sun.

He almost didn’t know how John did it. Still in all of his layers, he looked comfortable, and wanted more sun on top of it.

At least he’d given up on his hoodie hours back. Pulling at the neck of his tank, Sharky dragged it up to mop at his face, peeling it away from his skin long enough to get some airflow going. It wasn’t much, but he’d take it, cooling off even a hair just by having it there.

It was quiet after that. Quiet enough for him to hear every bird that flew overhead, and the movement of the river as it drifted on by. Soaking it all in reminded him just how damn pretty it all was, and how he’d be fine with spending a lazy day here himself, but he wasn’t here to be lazy. Hell, he wasn’t even here to take a breather, even with John’s stamp of approval, because that didn’t put boards up. That didn’t knock dollar signs off of any of this, and instead of making progress Sharky was sitting well within view of it all with his thumb up his ass.

Well, he was twiddling them more than anything, and he’d found a decent rhythm to follow with his feet going off of the one started in his head, but the longer he stayed in place the more he felt the need to move, and he wouldn’t be able to handle it much longer. Not at this rate.

“Having trouble?”

With his sunglasses still down, John angled his head just enough to be able to see him, and Sharky side-eyed him as he dragged his tank off.

“Yeah, it’s hot. I’m fucking swimming over here and you’re telling me you’re not?” He twisted it between his hands and squeezed, and John’s nose wrinkled at the gesture. “I’d have shed more than half of that shit after ten minutes.”

“Clearly, judging from your current state,” John said, opening both eyes to look at him. “But I wasn’t referring to any of that. It’s hardly been five minutes, and you’re all but vibrating in place. Is it really that difficult to stand still?”

Sharky gave him a withering look. “You kinda forget the part where I’m working to pay you off? And the longer I take, the longer I gotta do any of this?”

Pursing his lips, John sighed. “You can take ten to rest. You can take _fifteen_ even. If you’re tired you get injured, and if you’re injured you can’t work. Defeats the purpose of any of it, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. But-”

“Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you hurt again.” John sat up, and leaned towards him. “And I’m in charge here still, aren’t I? I could order you to sit here for however long I wanted, but I won’t.”

A frown had crept in, but Sharky let it go. “Yeah?”

“ _Yes_ , because that won’t get either of us what we want, and right now I want you healthy and thinking clearly. You, on the other hand, want to be debt-free, and only work will properly get you there, but I think I may have found a compromise. I did mention that I wouldn’t be throwing orders at you to sit still. That’s still true, but a bet? That might be more to your liking.”

“…A bet?”

John’s lips curved into a wicked smile. “That’s right. A bet. Interested?”

Asking about it to begin with was a strike. John’s growing smug-ass smirk, strike two. Admitting he was interested at all was the third, and the longer the answer sat in his mouth, the longer he wanted to keep it there.

“Seeing as a bet got you into this to begin with, I can understand the hesitation,” John replied, stretching the word out, “but it does tempt, doesn’t it? And I will promise you there’s no hidden catch, or difficult task ahead. Only a simple request.”

Simple. The guy had on almost a three-piece suit to sweat in, and was regularly paid to make shit as complicated as possible. Simple for him came with enough fine print to make Sharky’s head want to start pounding.

But hearing him out and agreeing to it were two totally different things. Nothing set in stone, nothing he could claim as legally binding or whatever, so…

“Like what?”

John raised his sunglasses, and made sure they were looking at each other directly. “You remain here, in place, resting with no complaints for fifteen minutes, and you’ll be fifty dollars richer for it.”

Letting it all sink in, Sharky ran over the challenge, lapped it two times over, scrunched up his face as he came back to the start, and still couldn’t drop the suspicious look he shot John’s way. “You want me to sit here.”

“Yes.”

“Doing nothing, like just kicking back and loving it, and that’ll net me fifty big ones?”

“I’ll place it in your hand myself as long as you don’t move a single muscle. Is that acceptable?”

Fifty dollars for doing jack-shit? Hell yeah, it was.

It was also playing right into whatever John wanted. Let him pull the strings on whatever mini-power trip this was, which annoyed the hell out of him the longer Sharky thought about it, so he crossed his arms and focused on giving him as cold a shoulder as he could. Just ignored him completely as John started tapping his fingers against the bench, and didn’t say jack or shit in response.

“Would a hundred dollars suffice?”

That made his eyebrows go up.

“I suppose fifty might’ve been too modest of a thing to offer. Hardly worth taking a risk for.”

“Oh, it’s still fifty bucks,” Sharky said, turning towards him. “That’s some good shit right there.”

“Really? Then I can only imagine how appealing double that amount would be. Or perhaps even triple?”

Boom. A hundred and fifty dollars, as if it were nothing.

Sharky sat up and held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, just-first up, you’ve got that much on you right now? And second, you’re just gonna hand that over?”

John shrugged a shoulder and glanced away. “I wouldn’t make an offer I couldn’t back, and it’s only if you earn it.”

“So, you do.”

“I might.” The smile came back, one that really should’ve set off more warning bells than it did, and John aimed it right at him. “Depending on whether or not you decide to say yes.”

Scrunching up his face, Sharky really didn’t want to, but John had him. Fucking hook, line, and sinker, and he let out a sound of aggravation before finally saying, “All right, all right. I’ll do it.”

“You will? So, we have a deal?”

“…Y _es_ , we do.”

John held out his hand to him. Eyed him expectantly as his smile grew even sharper. He had half a mind to shove it back at him, but knew exactly what he was waiting for. What was going to seal this for him, and rolled his eyes only for John to jerk his hand away the second Sharky reached for it.

“Ah, ah, if you could,” John said, pretending to wipe his hand off on his shirt.

Sharky glanced down at his palm. It really wasn’t that bad, just sweaty, but he scrubbed it against his jeans anyway, shooting John a dirty look as he did it. However, when he went for him again, John didn’t fake him out. Just let him take his hand as Sharky gave it a firm shake.

“Excellent,” John replied, and he could’ve sworn the motherfucker almost purred it.

 _Lawyers, man._ He probably got off on this shit, and Sharky let go of his hand as soon as the thought hit.

Returning to his side of the bench, John checked the time on his watch and gently tapped at its face. During this, Sharky slipped his tank back on and waited as the seconds ticked by. Started tapping his fingers against the bench himself - none of it even close to John’s established rhythm - and almost attempted whistling before deciding to say something.

“Yo, you gonna start this? Or are we-”

“Almost. Patience is a virtue after all,” John said, eyes right on his watch, “and yours will be rewarded in due time.”

_Tap, tap, tap._

_Tap, tap, tap._

By the third set of taps, he’d fallen back into it too, drawn in without even thinking.

_Tap, tap, tap._

_Tap, tap, tap._

All of it like clockwork up until he saw John’s finger pause in mid-air. “All right. Your time starts… _now_ , and don’t forget our terms.”

“Yeah, yeah, my ass ain’t going anywhere. Better hope you’ve got more than a twenty and a few crumpled ones, though, ‘cause I ain’t gonna lose this.”

“Oh?”

“It’s half-off shots at the Eagle tonight,” Sharky replied with a grin. “Karaoke’s on too. Hurk’s already got me covered for half, but the minute I win this and head out there, shit’s gonna be fucking lit.”

John rolled his eyes. “And every cent gone just as fast as you've earned it.”

“So, I wanna go out and enjoy myself. The hell’s wrong with that?” Sharky shot. “That’s making the best of a Tuesday when I don’t got a whole lot else going on. ‘Sides, can’t spend it all there anyway. Still gotta buy underwear, socks, shoes and shit.”

Ticking each one off on his fingers, the mental price tag kept climbing, and he squinted out over at the boathouse as he added it all up.

“Then there’s gas. Can’t run out of that. Mags, ‘cause I gotta stay up to date on my reading and viewing material. Food, though my jerky stash’s all right, but I could grab more cereal. And duct tape, which is fucking magical. Seriously, get a roll, it’ll fix anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything. Hole in your pants? Done. Hole in your roof? Done. Hole in you? Also done, though if it’s a real gusher, you uh….might wanna slap two or three layers onto it, or I don’t know, go with that Flex Seal shit. You know, like on the infomercials?” he asked, nudging John with his elbow. “Keeps most of the bleeding internal rather than external, though you’d need to ask Hurk about the last time we tried that. Might’ve been in and out of it as he ran me to the clinic, and he swears by the stuff.”

Sharky pretended to slap some on his arm - flashing John a thumbs up while he was at it - only for John to give him a flat look.

“What? Shit works! It seals, and it holds. And I know it works ‘cause I only lost so much of my blood on the way into the clinic, and even the doc was looking at me like I should’ve kicked it. So, if anyone’s gonna give it a bonafide seal of approval, it’s me. Get it? ‘Cause it’s a seal, and I’m here telling you about it, and uh…yeah.”

Sharky’s crooked smile fell as John stared him down, and he let the rest trail off after that. Just shifted his attention to his hands as he pulled off his cap and gave it a few shakes before flexing and folding it between them.

“How _either_ of you are alive at this point I don’t think I’ll ever understand.”

“Good luck, and maybe a little something my cuz calls Boshaw Bo-wisdom.”

John pressed both hands to his eyes, breathed deep, and then dragged them down. “Wisdom.”

“Bo-wisdom.”

“Charlemagne, you are…” John began, considering him long enough to make Sharky’s leg start bouncing in place, “absolutely bewildering, and yet-”

“Really, really ridiculously good looking?”

John’s words caught in his throat, and he coughed out a laugh a beat later.

"That don’t sound like a no." Sharky slapped a grin on his face and slipped his hat back on. “Like, I know I ain’t a fancy lawyer or a pilot, but I got it.”

John opened his mouth, but paused. Hmm-ed to himself as he gave him a quick once-over, and cocked his head. “A certain, je ne sais quoi?”

He'd been full set on John giving him a no straight-up, but that wasn't it at all. “Uh, sure? If you wanna get all fancy with that too.”

Never mind the handful of French he knew came from commercials, food labels, and old Saturday morning cartoons, but he’d heard some form of that before once or twice, and didn’t recall anyone getting slapped for it.

“Fancy?” John laughed, and said something else. A whole string of words Sharky didn’t recognize at all up until the final ‘oui?’, and raised an eyebrow.

“Amigo, if you want me to agree to any of that, you’ll have to give me something. ‘Cause I got the yes, but everything else?” Sharky waved a hand right over his head, and whistled.

Because of course John would know another language inside and out too. Probably went straight to France to learn it, and could’ve spun up all sorts of shit that sounded nice on first pass only to mean something else entirely. The longer Sharky thought it over, the more it made him want to frown at it, and before long went back to staring out at the boathouse. Focused on burning a hole right into it, and wouldn’t have cared too much if he’d actually had the ability.

“What did you think I said?”

“I dunno,” Sharky muttered. “Something-something, mustache twirl, you suck?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched John’s amusement fade. “I said that you probably didn’t understand me, which was a shame. It leaves things more than a little one-sided, and insulting you during that’s something I’d prefer not to do. Especially since a proper insult would’ve been more along the lines of this.”

The next string of words still had that overly fancy ring to it as it all flowed together, but by the time John turned to him, Sharky was watching him intently.

“Would you like to know that one?” John asked.

“Dude, you can’t just say that shit and leave it hanging like that.”

John leaned towards him, silent as Sharky motioned for him to get on with it, but what followed was stated so bluntly, it took a solid minute to sink in.

But the moment it did, Sharky let out a laugh that had him almost doubling over as he struggled to recover from it. “Fuck, man! Are you for real?”

A smile crept onto John’s face, and soon he was smiling as wide as Sharky was. “I might’ve picked that one up a long time ago from an acquaintance of mine.”

“And you actually got to say it? Like face-to-face?”

“Once or twice, but it loses its impact if you say it too often, so I might’ve had to use a few alternatives in its place. A hazard of the job, really.”

“So you’ve got a whole bunch of these stashed and ready to go, huh? Like if I say something, like ‘shove your head up your own ass’, you’d be able to translate it, no problem?” More French followed, and Sharky squinted at John when his name popped up in the middle of it. “Cool. ...Long as you didn’t just tell me to shove my own head up there.”

“No, I merely said that of course, it would be possible.”

“The whole saying it part, and not-”

“Not the second.” And John slipped back into it again, saying every last word with a smile right on his face. “But _that_ would be how I’d phrase it if I wanted to.”

With that on that table, Sharky threw another insult at him. Just let the eager feeling driving him take the wheel, and John didn’t even pause this time before quickly giving him the translation for it. He even sounded it out for him as Sharky tried reciting it right after, and was left practicing Rs with John until even his tongue needed a fucking break. Then went for another, and another, and neither of them let up for a second.

Even when he decided to get creative with it, throwing weirder and more obscure stuff at him, it didn't matter. John gave it all a fair shake. Whether he was thinking over some of the harder phrases, or giving him the evil eye, John never told him no, or to fuck off. He dished it all back, the words way too damn smooth for the kinds of things Sharky was asking about, and even started chuckling with him midway through the last one, giving up the fight completely as he came to a stop and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Stumped?”

John peered over at Sharky as he kicked back in his seat, but glanced away the minute he started waggling his eyebrows at him. “This was not the intended use of the language. Not as I first learned it, and not later on when I experimented with it as well, so forgive me if I need a moment to continue entertaining any of the things that have left your mouth so far.”

“Hey, you offered.”

“After you asked,” John countered, lowering his hand. “And you did, so there’s no arguing that point. But I will admit that this is one of the more interesting uses of that particular skill set. Even after having a chance to test it on the streets of Paris myself.”

“Figures,” Sharky chuckled. “Probably been everywhere.”

“Almost. I made a list of places when I was fresh out of law school, and started crossing them off one by one. Wanted to see the world beyond the one built around me and for me, but…over time it lost its appeal, and other things became much more important.”

John leaned forward, folding his hands together as he rested them on his thighs, and aimed a curious glance his way. “How about you? Ever traveled?”

“Me?” Sharky asked, gesturing towards himself. “Like, I’ve been to the border. Got to see Canada for about five minutes before Hurk had to get us out of there, but having a PO kinda put a damper on any travel plans real quick. But that don’t mean I don’t want to. Just never had the chance, you know?”

“So, where would you go if you were able to?”

“Shit, all sorts of places. Could probably stay local, but where’s the fun in that? Better somewhere far away, exotic. Like Florida.”

John’s eyebrows drew together. “…Florida.”

“Florida,” Sharky repeated, bobbing his head.

When he didn’t say anything further, John wet his lips and turned towards him fully. “I could offer to fly you anywhere in the world right now. To any continent, any place, and given those options would you still make the same choice?”

“What’s wrong with Florida?”

John slowly blinked at him. “Aside from it being Florida?”

“Aw, come on," Sharky said, lightly punching him in the arm, "they got all sorts of nice things there. It ain’t all orange juice and gators. Got cocktails, racing, and palm trees too. Oh, and water sports.”

This time when John pressed his lips into a thin line and scowled, Sharky eyed him right back.

“I’m talking polo and jet skis. Dunno where your mind’s going, man.”

“Well, there’s a good reason for that,” John spat, “and I’m staring right at i-”

A shrill beeping cut him off, nearly making Sharky jump in his seat as he gripped the bench. “Not it! Also, my ass is on this. Didn’t leave it once.”

John dropped his gaze down to his watch, and frowned deeply as he shut it off.

“Wait, we hit fifteen already?” 

That had Sharky’s eyebrows flying sky high with no hope of falling. Leaning towards him - which was pretty pointless seeing as he couldn’t read shit even from the new angle - he got as far as reading the hour before John jerked his left arm away from him.

“Yes, and much as I’m loathe to admit it, you’ve honored our agreement.”

On the edge of his seat, Sharky watched John climb to his feet and pull out his wallet. Thumbing quickly through the bills, he didn’t even look up at Sharky before withdrawing them, and just tossed the cash his way.

“Uh, cool, I guess-whoa, hey!” Snatching them out of the air, he’d crumpled the bills in his rush to save them, and did a double-take when he realized just what he was looking at. “Yo, this is-you said one-fifty, max.”

“And?” John asked, acting like he’d just tried to inform him the sky was blue, that he was a dick, or that water was wet. Simple run of the mill shit that anyone would know.

“This is two-hundred, man. Don’t remember agreeing to that.”

John tilted his head back, and lowered his sunglasses. “They’re the smallest bills I have. Perhaps you lucked out there as well.”

The smallest he had. Not a fifty, not even a twenty, but hundreds only.

 _What. The fuck,_ Sharky mouthed, gaping at him.

“And I do believe that means your break is also over, so if you could?”

“Whoa, what?” Sharky sputtered, as John turned his back on him and headed towards the building. “You-you told me to do this shit!”

“I bet you that you wouldn’t be able to,” John threw out, glancing at him over his shoulder. “Now that you’ve proven me wrong, I see no reason why you wouldn’t be able to redouble your efforts and really impress me, hmm?”

Disappearing through the entrance to the boathouse, Sharky had a minute to sit there. Mouth open, wide enough to swallow a fucking bee if it decided to fly right into it, before John poked his head out of the doorway.

“Sometime _today_?”

Letting out a string of profanities - including more than a few he’d thrown at John not even five minutes ago - Sharky crammed the bills into his pocket and booked it after him.

With over half of the day left to burn, he might as well not waste it.


End file.
